Tagged: Camping

We woke up early to get a good start on our drive to the mountains. Today we were heading to the mountains to stay in a cabin owned by Alex’s cousins, Alina and Tavi. Rumor has it that Tavi had hand crafted this cabin with his bare hands. Tavi is this hulking machine of a human being that stands approximately 6ft 3 inches and weighs close to 280 pounds. He’s spent his entire life building things with his hands and doing farm work. When I shook his hand I could feel the raw power coming from his hand. The man had a ridiculously strong, electrifying grip that was out of this world. It was uncanny. I could feel that he had some kind of super power.

The previous night Beius had suffered a pretty crazy rain storm so my initial thought was concerning that maybe some mountain roads were washed out. Before I get into all of that, I want to highlight a couple of things. On our way to the mountains, we stopped to go fishing. Tavi broke out a fishing pole and then a sling shot. And then a bucket of maggots. He loaded the sling shot with maggots and launched them out into the water. This brought the fish closer. But the rains had been so severe that the water was pretty dirty from all the mud and dirt. So the fish would have a hard time seeing the maggots, unfortunately. So the fishing trip turned into a bust. Here’s the fishing spot:

We continued up the mountain road and stopped at a gorgeous waterfall called The Brides Veil. The water is so pure and fresh that you could literally fill your water bottle up and drink from it. Here’s a picture of the waterfall:

Up a little further was another waterfall. We were able to get water from this one and we filled up our water bottles for the road trip…

…we continued our journey towards the cabin and wouldn’t you know; my assumptions about washed out roads were right. This is what stood in our way:

The road was completely blocked by a mudslide. Big logs and rocks and lots and lots of mud covered the road. Tavi got out of the truck and immediately started picking up large boulders and throwing them aside. I couldn’t just sit in the truck and watch. I had to help. I thought to myself, “Hey, I’m strong, too!” But I wasn’t strong like this man. Not only was Tavi strong but he was an intelligent problem solver. He wasn’t just clearing the road. He was strategically placing big rocks to drive over for traction. The man was a genius. Even though he couldn’t get the truck over the washed out road on the first try, here’s how it all played out: Myself, Alex and Alina walked ten kilometers to the cabin while Tavi ran up the mountain side to get signal on his cellphone to call his friend who owned a bulldozer, (Yeah, he has a friend who owns a bulldozer) We picked wild strawberries, and laughed and joked about stuff and picked flowers and listened to nature and all that fun stuff. Tavi also called his friend, Peter who came and picked us up on the road and drove us the rest of the way to the cabin. When we arrived at the cabin, Tavi was minutes behind. It turns out these two Landrover trucks from the Czech Republic drove over the washed out road which created a pathway for Tavi to drive his truck through. And this is the cabin we were staying in…

…hand crafted by Tavi and a few of his friends. Romanians build everything themselves. Well, as much as they can, anyway. It’s not like them to hire an outside company or contractor to come out and build something for them. Even the swing in the picture was hand made. Tavi built that in two or three days. I told him that him and I could go in business together and he could build swings and sell them in America. I was a little skeptical of Peter at first because he seemed kind of out there. When he picked us up off the road, he was smoking a cigarette and speaking pretty good English. So I mean, I was like, at least I can talk to this guy. Then he drove kind of crazy through the water-filled potholes and I thought we were going to die. I looked back at Alex and Alina, (who were in the back seat of the SUV) and they seemed fine with it. I figured I was being a little too uptight and just tried to enjoy the moment, I guess.

Peter’s story is really interesting and unique. He’s Romania, works in Chicag0 6 months out of the year, and returns to Romania to do whatever he wants. He’s married and both he and his wife own a little Bed and Breakfast villa in the mountains. His wife is from Brazil, if I can remember correctly and since he earns money in America, and being that the dollar stretches pretty far in Romania, he can basically live like a king. It sparked a lot of ideas in my head about doing the same thing. And why not? Romania is awesome.

Tavi, myself and Peter hung out like brothers for the remainder of the night. Peter and I wandered off to a bar up the street and drank a few beers. We hung out with these older guys and they talked about crooked politicians, and some spoke some English and one guy had been to San Francisco quite a bit so when I told him I was from Seattle, he knew exactly what that was about. Once we got back to the cabin, Tavi was full steam ahead cooking up the best food a person could ever taste. I am not kidding. It was all done old school. And I’m not talking 1960’s style. I’m talking 19th century style cooking. It starts like this:

He brought out this huge pot looking thing and shaved up some kindling. Then he got the pot ready…

…and got the fire going…

…and then he filled the pot with fresh meat. Chicken and pork and it was mixed with some red wine and all the juices…it was so good. Before that, Tavi treated us with Slanina. It’s bread with sliced onions on it with pork fat dripped onto the bread. He was saying something like it’s “the food of the Vikings” and “only Americans eat that”. It was so funny, and of course he was joking about the American part. It was awesome tasting and so flavorful. All the food we ate was fresh. No heavy processing, no chemicals, nothing like that. So you could really taste the food and the meat just dripped off the bones. Alina made roasted eggplant paste or something like that and since I have never had eggplant, I was hesitant to try it. But after a few shots of Palinca, I was game to try anything. Tavi poured fresh honey into the bottle of Palinca that made it a bit sweeter and easier to drink. Since it takes like rubbing alcohol, (it’s basically moonshine) the honey took the edge off.

The cool mountainous air made being at the cabin so much more enjoyable than being in the city. It rained a few times while we were up there but there was nothing like it. The air was crisp and refreshing, the food was amazing and beautiful and the family atmosphere was totally awesome. I felt at peace and I didn’t feel like there was a heavy dark cloud over my head. I wasn’t looking forward to leaving the cabin environment and I certainly wasn’t excited to get back to America at this point. The daily grind, the daily 9-5, commuting to work, paying bills and bumming around on the weekends seemed pointless, and it felt frustrating to have to return to that kind of place. I get that I can’t be on vacation my whole life, there has to be some kind of aspect of work and responsibility, and I usually try not to judge places I visit, and want to move out there because I’m having a fantastic time because realistically I’m on vacation. So I have zero responsibilities. It just seemed like being an American, and living in supposedly the “greatest” country in the world, why are Romanians happier, healthier and living better than I? Happiness comes from within but our atmosphere surely can influence that.

I’m sure not everyone in Romania is happy with their living conditions or way of life. As I learned more about Communism and the state of the country, it still seems better than where I currently live. Romanians work hard and play hard. That’s their motto. Most seem carefree and worry-free and that’s probably part of my problem. I worry a lot and I can’t just focus on one day at a time. We had one more day at the cabin and I was going to enjoy the heck out of it.

I grew up a Yankee fan, I favor Pitchers whenever possible, I am a stathead, and my dream job is to be a GM for an MLB franchise. In the summer, I go to MLB games and catch baseballs. In the winter, I write about what teams are doing to get better or worse. I try to be positive and unbiased in my writing, but that isn't always possible when evaluating teams truthfully.

I’m an Oakland Athletics Season Ticket holder and sit in Section 149 of the Right Field Bleachers. I love going to Major and Minor League baseball games and snagging balls, which I began to do in 2011. To date, I've snagged 165 Minor League Baseballs and 185 Major League Baseballs.

Thought processes and conversations started under the tilted cap of Tropicana Field. Someday everyone will know the Rays play in St. Petersburg, Florida, not TAMPA, or the fictitious city of TAMPA BAY.